Why I/m Breaking Up Widh Hollywood

[Stefan Molyneux No.4834397]

Propaganda Art Thread

When Emma Watson has to cross a sea of wrinkled penises and cross her fingers in order to get to dhe golden statue, dhen her experience will seep into her art and what she does and it/s going to distort dhe entire culture∵
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sL8o7KY1f2o

[Anonymous No.4834405]

>>4834397
yt account terminated LMAO

[Anonymous No.4834419]

>>4834397
i really like when you make the elbows touch behind the back. armbinders are hot. maybe ill draw one tonight.

[Anonymous No.4834420]

not sure what the context is, but my instinct tells me jews are at it again

[Anonymous No.4834472]

>>4834397
>Emma Watson: I was sexually harrassed by men in power in the film industry
>"FUCK DA PATRIARKEE #METOO U GO GIRL!!!!! SO BRAVE

>EW: By Jewish men who run the industry.
>*account deleted*

[Anonymous No.4834478]

Guys this is /ic/

[Anonymous No.4834502]

>>4834397
Hollywood's always been a shithole. That's been an open secret for... how long, now?
Probably as long as it's been around.

[Sage No.4834511]

>>4834397
Holy fuck jannies and mods not doing their fucking job. This isn't fucking artwork and critique related it's fucking drama related for gods sake

[Anonymous No.4834578]

G-d, I wish I were a Jew. I lay awake at nights and imagine taking naive little girls with stars in their eyes and their heads in the clouds on dinners in fancy restaurants. I treat them nicely, and make them feel safe. They’re nervous, but it’s just an innocent little date with the man who will make them a star, and they want me to like them. The ride to the restaurant is cozy and intimate. The limo is large and spacious, but I tap the seat beside me, and smile. They can’t deny me that small sign of affection, they wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings. My large bulk takes up most of the space, and they squeeze in beside me, their are legs rubbing up against my fat legs in my $3000 suit pants. I chatthem up and reassure them. We are just having a friendly little date, after all. I savour the feel of their young flesh getting goosebumps as I nonchalantly put my fat hand on their knee as I tell a joke, the gold jewellery on my fingers weighing heavy on their supple skin, but their minds as well. They know what I can do for them. The door opens and we are out in the cold evening air, their tiny dress little protection against the elements, or the gaze of the richly dressed doorman as he knowingly greets us. It is not the first time I’m here. As she drinks in the rich atmosphere, her heart a flutter, I slip the staff a sizeable tip, recompense for the special consideration allowed to me by the establishment. I lead her to the table specially set out for us in a secluded part of the restaurant by the small of her back, massaging her gently as we go along. She knows she should say something, but the surrounding wealth and opulence is overwhelming and she takes it like a good girl. She is not going to ruin this evening, for herself nor for me. I will make her a star. I will make this her everyday, and she will know the life of a fairytale princess that she always dreamt of. As we are seated, the wine is already on the table.

[Anonymous No.4834580]

. She doesn’t usually drink, but the bottle is worth more than her car, and the garson makes sure she knows it. It is not the first time I am here. Her soft, white little cheeks turn red as she imbibes the sweet nectar, her guard relaxing ever lower. I ply her with wine and paint a pretty picture of what could be, my paint lies, the canvas her naïveté. It is a piece I have painted many times before. When her eyes are at their brightest, her smile almost sincere, I drop the hammer: if only the other producers didn’t favor the other girl. The rest comes so easy, it is almost a disappointment. I barely even have to drop hints. I tell her how much I like her, how much I want to see her in the role, how the only reason the other girl hasn’t been cast already is because of how much influence I hold over the industry. She is almost eager to dance to my tune. As I lead her to the limo, my greasy hand now much lower on her body, much more possessive of her flesh, I think of all the degrading things she will be happy to do as I set the machine in motion and make her a rising star overnight. It only takes a couple of phone calls to make her an instant presence in the media. It takes less to take it away. Once she has a taste, she will be desperate to keep it. She will play party favors to disgusting fat men like me during the night so that she may be worshipped by slobbering masses in the light of day. She will tolerate unwanted hands on her body, and pretend she doesn’t know most of the other girls getting molested by clammy fingers while fat lips suck on their tongues are 15 or younger. She will turn a blind eye to the boys with squeaky voices and uneven gait, a deaf ear to mentions of the farm followed by mocking laughter.

[Anonymous No.4834582]

Until she is too big. So loved by the inconsequential goyim mob, that she starts believing she can leave, that she can make it without me, but the media machine will have already done its job by then. There is a new star on the horizon, and she is left by the wayside, like her dignity so long ago.